After All This Time
by alyyycat
Summary: Max has returned to Liesel's life. She deems herself reluctant to become more than just friends with him, but finds that she is more capable of falling in love with this man than she thought.
1. You Came Back

Liesel Meminger was secluded to her sewing machine in the dreary, under lit room. The other girls sat around her, tailoring their articles: a skirt with a ripped hem, a pair of trousers that fell a bit too long. Liesel held the dark green fabric of the freshly doctored dress in her hands. It was a soft, warm feeling. She stroked the sleeve where she had mended a tear and wondered what might have caused such a rip.

She thought of the boy with the yellow hair. Rudy. Her dearest Rudy. A tear slipped down her cheek as she remembered her first kiss, his last breath. A beautifully melancholy moment that haunted her as she reminisced on the days they used to play soccer on Heaven Street before it was reduced to rubble so many years ago. Liesel wiped the tear from her cheek before it fell on the scarred fabric of a lucky woman's dress.

The time read eight o'clock. Liesel rose to dismiss herself and glided to the front of the building to notify her boss. She applied as a seamstress to honour Mama. Mama would surely be proud of her, but would tell Liesel she was making a mistake and complain about the unrewarding career of tending to laundry. But Mama was gone. And Papa, who would stroke her hair and kiss her head. He would then smile and say, "I'm so proud of you, your majesty."

How she missed them so.

Liesel opened the door to the small lobby just as the door to the street chimed. There was a dark haired gentleman standing in the dim room. The structure in his face was too familiar to be false, his build was strong and unforgettable. He was undeniably handsome which left Liesel unsure of whether she had only met him in a dream.

"Max," Liesel murmured. She said it again louder when his head slightly rose in attention. "Max!"

"Liesel?" She ran to him, wrapping her arms around him. His arms slipped around her waist and he held her like a lost memory.

"Get out of here, girl!" Hans yelled. He held the name of Papa, but was quite the opposite in character. "Take your private life out of my shop!"

Max kept his hand loosely on the small of her back as he guided her out of the door, which made Liesel tremble even before walking into the wintery street. When they were outside, the brisk February air hit their skin. Liesel suddenly remembered that she left her coat on the rack, but there was no going back for it now that Hans was on a rampage.

"When did you get here?" she asked Max.

"As soon as I was back on my feet, I told myself I was going to come back to Heaven Street and find you, tell you I never left." His face, in the brighter light reflected from the snow, looked harder somehow, shadowed in all of the wrong places. Liesel wondered what had happened since he had been gone. Where he had been, what he had seen. She knew it wouldn't be polite to ask and it was freezing, she couldn't think about that right now.

She gazed at him. Before she could stop herself, her hand reached for Max's arm.

"Do you have any place to stay?" she asked.

"Nien. I just simply left."

She looked at him again, contemplating the advantages and disadvantages of having another person in her house, particularly a man. She told herself that she would remain platonic with him.

"Stay with me," Liesel said to him. It slipped out, she wished she had said something a bit more subtle, but the offer was expressed, nonetheless, and she needed to get home before she caught pneumonia.

"Liesel, I couldn't—"

"I insist," she interrupted, a bit more forcefully than she intended. "Really, it's just around the corner."

He gazed at her, his dark eyes softening for a moment as they met hers, a sea blue, then returning to their shockingly hard stare. Then he nodded and noticed Liesel was shivering in her deep red work dress. Max took his heavy black coat off and draped it around her shaking shoulders. She immediately felt the warmth surrounding her. He was tall so the coat went to her knees, and his body heat lingered in the fabric.

"Max, you'll freeze," Liesel protested. He was already losing colour.

"I'll be fine," he assured her. "You kept me warm once."

That was a lie. Mama and Papa kept him warm. Liesel stole books for him, or that was how Rudy put it when he caught her in the act. She was only borrowing, she was reading them to Max as he lay unconscious in a fever on the floor of her basement. She returned them when she was done. He claims that was what kept him alive, but Liesel knew that it was Mama and Papa's care that helped him survive. She provided nothing, they provided everything.

Then one day, it became dangerous to care for him. It became a burden to feed him. It became clear that he had to leave. Thus he became the boy in the shadows. Liesel hadn't seen him since.

Now, here he was, warming her as she led him back to her apartment. The thought was surreal to Liesel. Why had he come back just to see her? The thought drifted through her mind as she rounded the block, Max at her side, resisting the inevitable shivering.


	2. Just Friends

Max trailed behind Liesel up the stairs. She wondered what he was thinking as he watched her—she knew he was watching, his eyes burned.

They reached the fifth door on the left of the third floor and Liesel took out her key. She unlocked the door and stepped in the room. The apartment was small, perfect for a young German bachelorette, but it would be difficult trying to comfortably fit the both of them into the one bedroom apartment. The kitchen was small, containing only the absolutely necessary as Liesel was a minimalist. After growing up with nothing, she understood the importance of never over possessing. Given that Max grew up the same way, Liesel knew that he wouldn't be bothered.

Liesel pondered where she would put Max. He couldn't share the bedroom with her and she had no couch. She took the pin out of her hair and let the blonde, curly tresses fall in waves over her shoulders. When she turned around, she found Max watching her. His dark eyes expressed no emotions, but yet they were so full of them as well. He was once so simple, he'd been changed by the war. Everyone had.

"You can take my room until I find another place for you to sleep," she said, turning to him.

"Where will you sleep?" he asked.

"I will figure that out when I get there. Don't worry." She smiled at him slightly. His dark hair touched his eyebrows in the most perfect way and when he curved his lips up to ever so slightly smile, his prominent nose crinkled a little. Liesel wondered why she loved this so much. Her eyes drifted to his lips, a thin line above his sharp jaw line. She immediately caught herself and smiled again in his eyes, nodding and proceeding to the kitchen after hanging his coat on the rack.

"You must be starving," she said. "I will fix up a meal."

He shook his head. "Nein, don't bother with me. I will be okay."

"Max," she said approaching him, her voice soft as she would talk to a devastated child, "I want to take care of you. I don't have to, I want to. Do not worry about me." She slightly touched his surprisingly well muscled forearm and looked deeply into his eyes.

Max nodded his head and drifted to the kitchen.

"If you insist on keeping care of me, I will insist on helping," he said to her. "What can I do?"

Liesel looked at him stubbornly. She just wanted him to sit down and leave her to her work. She could get lost in her work and not think about the beautiful way his dark hair grazed his ears or how much she wished that—no, he was just a friend. There would be none of that.

"Fine," she said finally.

As they prepared supper, she watched his hands. She had him washing the dishes as she finished with them. Max's hands had a grace about them, slightly burnt by the bitter cold December, and moved fluently through the water while he scrubbed. There was no sense of struggle, he must have been stronger than she thought. He was tall and lean, but built. Liesel's eyes traced the veins on his arms, as he had pulled his sleeves up to preserve them. The small ropes protruding from his forearm made her heart jump a bit. She wanted to feel them. She examined his face, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He had slight facial hair that was only barely noticeable from a distance.

Soon, they sat down to eat. Max sat across from Liesel at the small dining table in the middle of the room. They ate in silence, but Liesel often caught Max looking at her intently. She felt like a painting in a museum, one that people often look at for hours to discover its true meaning.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked him as she caught him again.

"You're so different. So grown up," he replied.

"Well seventeen is a large jump from twelve, ya?"

"I suppose so," he said smiling. "I just can't help but remember the Liesel that used to read me books in the basement on Heaven Street."

He finished his plate watching her. It was a warm gaze, like he was studying her more than watching. She took his plate and began washing it. He watched from the table. She smiled at this thought. It had been so long since she had enjoyed a boy's attention. She was beautiful, anyone could see that, but she refused to think so. Her blonde locks were flawless and her eyes were a big and beautiful blue. Her form was petite and curved in just the right spots. She thought nothing of herself, however. She was more concerned with rational thoughts like managing her meagre salary and working overtime to pay for the occasional luxuries like a new dress when one of her old ones was beyond repair. Attention from men came easy to her, especially when she became independent. Men would try to woo her, only to receive a blank stare and a soft "No thank you" muttered from her lips.

Max was different. He did not seem to want Liesel's attention, but he seemed to fancy her in the most peculiar manner. She supposed that he knew her well enough to know that she was not interested in such petty desires. This was something she liked about him, something that made him more intriguing than most men.

"Where have you been all of these years, Max?" Liesel asked.

His eyes shot downward and his jaw tightened.

"The war has been over for months," she continued, "why didn't you come back?"

"It's not that simple Liesel," he muttered. "You don't understand."

"I don't understand anything, do I? I've always been a naive young girl that doesn't understand. Do you know what I do understand? You ran to protect us, but when the protecting was done, you never came back. I waited for months and months for you. I never forgot about you, Max. I told stories of you in the darkness of the raids. I missed you so much because I had no one left. Mama, Papa, Rudy. They were all killed. I thought you were killed..."

By this time, she had risen her voice and was only a metre away from him. Her voice trailed off as she realised he had started to tear up. His stone face hid it well.

"It's about time you get some sleep," she said to him.

He stood there for a moment, then closed the space between them and embraced her. She thought he was going to kiss her, but instead placed his lips on her head as he did so many years ago before he walked out of her life.

"Goodnight, Liesel," he whispered. He then released her softly and took the blankets she had laid in the corner earlier for herself and spread them for himself on the cold floor.

She almost protested, but when she saw him lying there with his eyes closed, she couldn't bear to tell him otherwise.

"Goodnight, Max," she whispered from across the room.


	3. Nigtmares and the Forbidden Kiss

"Liesel," a voice in the darkness murmured.

Liesel's head shot up. Across the room was a boy with hair the colour of lemons. He stood there, young and frail, looking directly at her.

"Liesel, you left me. Liesel, why didn't you kiss me? Did you only love me after I was gone?"

"Rudy," she whispered, "it wasn't like that. I—I—"

"You said he wasn't your boyfriend."

"Rudy—"

The yellow haired boy began to leave the room.

"Rudy, nein! Nein, Rudy! Come back!"

"Liesel?" said a soothing voice.

She woke up sweating, flailing, and shaking. Max held her down softly so she would calm down. When she realised it was him, her breathing slowed.

"I'm sorry, Max. It was only a dream."

"Liesel, you scared me. I heard you screaming."

"I'm sorry," she said. "You don't have to worry about me."

Max was sitting on the edge of the mattress. He hadn't a shirt on and large, black numbers were visible on the inside of his forearm. He brought a hand up to stroke her hair and she leaned into it. He was so comforting. She looked at him and felt a small spark in her heart.

"I should go now," he said to her, suddenly embarrassed.

As he shifted to rise, she caught his arm. She held his hand for a moment and looked into his eyes.

"Max," she whimpered.

"Liesel?"

She sighed. Her mind mulled the possibilities of what she was about to ask of him. But she couldn't take it any longer. His eyes pierced through her heart and she felt heat spread from her heart through her finger tips.

"Please stay with me," she asked softly.

His dark eyes glowed in the darkness, reflecting the candle he had lit when he entered the room. The fire danced in his eyes and Liesel wondered if he felt the same warmth that she did when he touched her.

He seemed reluctant to share the night with her, but soon nodded and laid down next to her on top of the covers. One arm slipped under her head and his other arm draped across her waist. Her eyes locked with his and he blew out the candle.

Even in the complete darkness, he was still handsome. She could feel him breathing, his strong, lean chest rising and falling slowly. His eyes remained open, however, as the street lamps illuminated them. She couldn't hardly take the silence. She had so much she wanted to tell him. Yes, this feeling escalated quickly and suddenly and without consent, but it was real.

Maybe it was always there, this feeling of loving Max. When Mama told Liesel that he had woken up from his fever induced coma, she was overjoyed. She had been terrified that he was going to die. She had always cared for him. Maybe there had just been something holding her back.

Liesel's hand drifted to Max's chest. She felt him inhale sharply and saw his eyes close. It was not pain she saw, but something else that she could not identify. He opened his eyes and looked at her.

"Liesel," he whispered. There was something desperate in his voice, like he was holding something back. He pulled her closer so that their bodies were touching. She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. Max's face inched closer to hers, their nose touched and their lips were centimetres apart.

Then Liesel's head moved past his face and rested on his shoulder. She regretted inviting him here, in this room. She couldn't possibly break her promise to herself. They couldn't be together. Liesel couldn't love him like he loved her.

Max sighed and buried his face in her hair. She felt him fall asleep yet couldn't bring herself to close her eyes.

All night she thought about the forbidden almost-kiss. She wanted to kiss him so much. His lips, thin and supple, were craving her. He wanted to kiss her. But if she had kissed him, they would be together. Liesel was incapable of loving. Everyone she had ever loved—her brother, her mother, Mama, Papa, Rudy, even Max for a time—had left. She couldn't love Max, or he would leave. She could never recover if he left.

All night, she concentrated on the feel of his warmth against her. She wanted to remember this like a dream. She wanted to memorise the rise and fall of his chest just in case it wasn't here tomorrow.

It must have been four in the morning when she pulled her face back to examine his. He looked happier in his sleep. He looked like the same Max that she used to tell about the day. What the sun felt like on her skin.

"If your eyes could speak," he had once said, "what would they say?"

His face was relaxed. Liesel could tell he was fast asleep.

She drew her lips close to his ear and whispered, "I love you, Max."

He probably didn't hear her, which was a benefit of waiting until he was sleeping.

She then lightly pressed her lips to his temple. His eyebrows rose slightly, but he was clearly still asleep. He would never know. She didn't want him to.


	4. Something to Look At

Liesel heard footsteps coming from the bedroom. She had the day off today from the tailor's and was preparing breakfast for herself and Max. He staggered sleepily out of the doorway and squinted at Liesel through the daylight.

"Good morning," she said to him, barely looking up from her cooking. She was already dressed in her dark blue day dress and had her hair pinned up.

"Morning," he replied. He looked her up and down, slightly blushing. He was in his same trousers and no shirt. He had brought nothing with him when he came a few weeks prior. Then again, he had nothing when he left, so this was hardly a shock. At least he had found a job at the baker's and worked enough so she could wash his clothes while he was gone. He worked more in the early morning and her in the evening. They both had Sundays off.

He had been sleeping beside her since the first night. They tried to sleep alone, but finally gave in, knowing that they would end up together in the first hours of morning after the nightmares took over.

Liesel sat a bowl of porridge down on the table for Max and motioned him to sit down. He sat and began eating.

"Sleep well?" she asked. Her face felt warm as she remembered the events of the night.

"I suppose so," he replied.

Liesel wanted to hold him. She wanted to touch his skin and kiss his lips. But she knew that she could never. She remembered Rudy's last breath. Her heart stung at the thought.

Liesel caught herself staring at him. She broke her gaze and prepared her bowl, then sat across from him. She sat silently, staring at the table, but his eyes still rested on her. She looked up.

"You always look at me like that," she said.

"Like what?" He was just playing games with her, she could tell. He was smiling.

"Like I'm something to look at," she said smugly.

"You are," he replied. "You're right in front of me."

"That's not what I meant," Liesel sighed.

"Then what did you mean? I cannot read your mind."

"Like I'm...beautiful."

Max smiled at her. "You are."

Her hair stood on end. "What makes you believe that?"

Max sighed. "I have seen many women in my days. Many of them with pleasant faces. But, Liesel," he said, standing, "none have struck me like you have. You are strong. You have faced so much in your life and yet you move on fondly. You remember, you do not dwell. And that is beautiful. You love when you do not even realise you are loving. That is beautiful," he was slowly stepping toward her. "Your face, it's that of a dream. You are beautiful. And I love you too."

She stood and by that time, Max had taken her face in his hands and he moved in to kiss her. This time, after his many midnight attempts that she had rejected, she let him.

His lips were soft and gentle, yet forceful as he pressed them against hers. She placed her hands on his chest and took in every moment of his love that filled her. Warmth exploded from her chest, dancing all through her body as he held her and kissed her. Their lips danced in rhythm with each other, the way that can only be demonstrated by those that are truly in love, truly meant for each other.

When he pulled back, both of them were craving more. The years they had been apart didn't seem to matter anymore and were like nightmares that plagued both of them every night. Anything without one another was a nightmare to them.

They had no room for words. They returned to the bedroom to lie down together and keep warm despite the bitter March transition. Liesel found herself exhausted from the insomnia that had stolen her sleep for so long and fell asleep to the rhythm of his heart beat. She heard it in her dreams like a song.

Soon, she felt Max flinching. She woke slowly, but found that he was tossing and murmuring something in his sleep. Liesel took his hand gently, but he seemed incapable of pulling himself out of his state.

"Max," she whispered. "Max, wake up."

She lightly shook his shoulders and he surfaced from his sleep. He opened his eyes and jerked up, nearly heading Liesel in the face. He calmed at the sight of her.

"I'm sorry," he said, stroking her cheek. "It was just a nightmare."

"What was it?" she asked.

"Times without you."

They sat in silence for a moment, her body hanging above his. She softly touched the dark, bold numbering on his forearm and he winced. She retreated, then tried again.

"What's this?"

He sighed and his face turned dark. "The camps. They numbered us."

"Camps?" Liesel was legitimately confused.

"They found me. I went on the run, you know. I left, trying to get to Switzerland or somewhere safe. I was hiding in house after house trying to escape. Then one night, I was unfortunate enough to stay with a family on an unfortunate street that was searched that night. They took me and the family. We didn't know where we were going, but we knew it was going to be terrible."

Liesel absorbed every word. She almost didn't want to hear what he was saying.

"Then," he continued, "we wound up in a horrible place. They barely fed us, they put us to hard work every day. When you couldn't work anymore, they took you. I never found out what they did, but the smell of burning flesh was all I could smell for however long I was there. I lost count of time. They didn't feed us enough to count by meals. I didn't sleep enough to count by nights.

"When the war was over, the world didn't know about us. We didn't know the war had ended. But one day, we heard guns and people were being carried out of the barracks and we knew we had been liberated."

Both Max and Liesel were tearing up by this point.

"I was taken to the hospital in some place I don't remember. I was sleep deprived and malnourished. They medicated me, fed me, kept me alive."

Max sat up and placed his hand on Liesel's waist.

"Liesel, every night since I left, all I could think of was you. Every day, my motivation was that someday I'd get to see you again. I imagined what a beautiful girl you had been and were surely becoming. I have loved you since you described the day to me. The way your words sounded, the way your face lit up, I knew I loved you."

She remembered that so well. Every day after coming home, she would tell him what the day looked like. He intently listened to her as if he were trying to feel her words.

Liesel leaned in and kissed him softly as if to say she felt the same. She wasn't lying, she loved him then, but she could not say that she loved him the same way at that point in her life. She was only twelve, and she was broken. And Rudy...she was sure then that someday she would marry him. Life does not always turn out the way you imagine.

Now, in the sun flooded room with the man that she had waited five years for, she knew that she was not only capable of being loved, but also capable of loving deeper than she ever dreamed possible.

It was that moment when Liesel fell completely in love with Max Vaundenburg.


	5. Talk to Me

Weeks went by. Liesel and Max fell more in love by the day. Liesel began to notice the strangest details about him. He had a scar on the bridge of his nose, he had the slightest gap between his front teeth. She found herself loving all of these things about Max because they made him unique.

He never ceased to amaze Liesel. At night, they would lie together and comfort one another in restless sleep. Max would wake early in the morning to head to work and would kiss Liesel's head ever so softly, as to not wake her, and whisper to her, "I love you my word shaker."

He believed that she couldn't hear or feel him, but in truth, she always woke when he left the covers. His warmth was all that kept her asleep. She couldn't bear sleeping alone.

He always walked in the door with the familiar smell of fresh baked bread on his shirt. She would be making supper for the two of them and hear the door open.

"Smells good," he said, approaching her and wrapping his arms around her from behind. He kissed her neck and she giggled.

"It'll never be done if you keep doing that," she said playfully. She gave him a quick kiss and a smile.

He was happier now, brighter. His smile lit up the room like a thousand suns. His eyes no longer seemed shadowed, but a vibrant, dancing black. They squinted when he smiled at her. Liesel loved this about him. He only smiled like this at her. She would walk past the bakery on the way to work and see him at the register with a costumer. His smile was plastered on like a poster in a young girl's room, Liesel could tell. His genuine smile was so much more charming and charismatic. A kind of charismatic that made her weak in the knees every time.

One night, Max came home and he didn't hold her. He didn't eat. He didn't even say hello. Liesel took the pot off of the heat and went into the bedroom to find Max lying there alone, his back to the door.

"Max?" she said.

He didn't look up.

"Max, what's wrong?"

"I don't want to talk about it. Please..."

Liesel stepped into the room a bit more.

"Please talk to me," she pleaded.

He didn't acknowledge her. She sat on the edge of the bed, stroking his shoulder. She moved to kiss his cheek, and as she came closer, the lantern revealed a bruise on his face.

"Max..." She was shocked. What had happened?

"Liesel, don't worry. I'm fine."

He sat up and turned to her. The sight made her gasp. His nose looked broken and his cheek had a blue and purple bruise across it.

"I want to know what happened," she demanded.

"Someone saw the number on my arm. They knew...and he was a strong believer in the Nazi. He waited until I left the bakery and took me into an alley. After a few hits, I got a punch in. And once I started, I couldn't stop. I killed him..."

His knuckles had bruises the colour of olives on them. Liesel tried to hide the fact that she was crying. She wanted to be strong for him.

"God will never forgive me," he muttered. She scooted closer to him and saw the tears running out of his black eyes and down his swollen cheeks.

Liesel knew little about Judaism, but she knew that murder was the worse of the sins. She didn't know what to say to comfort him, so she simply held him. She could not picture Max, a gentle soul, harming anyone.

Soon, the quiet tears turned into sobs and words in a language she didn't quite understand. It must have been Hebrew. She held him there for a while, then brought him a bowl of soup. He was quiet and refused to eat.

"Max, you cannot starve yourself. Please eat. For me."

"Nein, I am not hungry."

"Max..." Liesel looked into his eyes. They were deformed and discoloured, but still his eyes.

Max sighed and took the bowl. He ate slowly, Liesel sitting beside him watching to make sure he finished.

"We will get through this, you know," she told him. "You didn't kill an innocent man. You killed a brutal, heartless, inhumane soul that does not see the value of any life but his own."

"It's not his fault," Max replied. "He was probably raised this way. To hate Jews. To see them as traitors to Germany. He was displaying nationalism. That does not constitute his death."

"He would have killed you, Max. You know that."

He sighed again. Liesel could tell he was tired and didn't feel like talking about the subject any longer.

She unbuttoned his work shirt which smelled of freshly baked bread and took it off of him, laying it on the bed beside her. She took his head and guided him to lie down. She kissed him softly.

"Goodnight, Max."

"Goodnight Liesel."

"I love you."

"I love you too, word shaker."

Liesel rose from the bed and his eyes shut. She took his shirt and started washing it. The early April breeze came in through the open window and her hands began burning from scrubbing.

After she had finished rinsing the shirt, she hung it to dry and slipped into the bedroom. She was sure that Max was dead asleep by now, so she unbuttoned her pale yellow dress and let it fall to the floor in waves of fabric. She then paced toward the drawers that held their clothes and pulled a nightgown out. She slipped the soft gown over her head, allowing it to drape over her thin body like a curtain, then brushed and tied her long blonde curls in a knot.

When she turned around, she was startled to see Max propped on one elbow, looking at her. Had he been watching the whole time?

"You're so beautiful," he said in awe.

Question answered.

Her eyes darted down and she wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly self conscious. No one had ever seen that much of her before. Liesel was a very modest girl; seeing her shoulders was a rare sight.

"I didn't know you were still awake," she said in a mousy voice.

"I can never sleep when you aren't here."

She stood there looking at him awkwardly, unsure of what to say.

"Don't be embarrassed, you have nothing to be embarrassed of. It's just me."

"It's not like I flaunt my underdressed self around to everyone, Max."

He let out a breathy laugh to that. "I would sure hope not, I'd be battling the whole country to demonstrate my love for you."

She stepped over to him and sat down. "Nein, they wouldn't matter to me."

"Men wouldn't give up so easily for a beauty like you."

"They would never want me unless I stripped down and painted myself red."

"I love you in all of your forms," he said sheepishly.

"And that's all that matters."

She kissed him softly, trying not to hurt his bruised face, and laid down beside him.

He pulled her close.

"You know, Liesel Meminger," he whispered, "I'm going to marry you someday."


	6. Epilogue

As time passed, good fortune was bestowed upon Max and Liesel.

Liesel published her first book _—The_ _Boy in the Shadows—_ and soon chose to pursue a career as a literature teacher. She continued her career as a writer anonymously.

Max took on the bakery after the death of the original owner. He never found his family, but was sure that they would meet again one day with God.

Hans, the tailor, met death after burning down his own shop in a fit of rage.

Liesel remembered Rudy every moment when she looked into the eyes of her students. There was a particular boy with hair the colour of lemons, an athlete for the school's track team, that she was fond of for his quirky personality and never failing smile. He was particularly fond of a shy young girl with beautiful blonde hair.

History seems to repeat itself in the strangest and pettiest ways.

Max did marry Liesel. He proposed to her on a cold winter night, two years after their reunion. They were married six months later in a traditional Jewish ceremony.

For those who wonder, they were more in love than words could fathom to describe. Max saw more beauty in Liesel than he thought could exist on Earth. Liesel lost herself in his eyes as if none other existed around them. They were best friends. They were meant for each other. They were in love in every meaning of the word.

Two years later, they were blessed with their first born. He was a boy, greatly resembling Max, but with yellow hair. His smile was enough to light a thousand rooms. He was beautiful. Liesel and Max loved him more than anything in the world, which made them love each other even more.

His name was Hans Rudy Vaundenburg.

**I want everyone to know how much I appreciate your support in AATT. You have made this so much fun for me. Please read my next story, Only One, when it's posted tomorrow morning. It features the story of how Finnick Odair and Annie Cresta met and their miraculous, unlikely true love. I hope you enjoyed After All This Time. Thank you!**

**alyyycat**


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